An Angel in Disguise
Idleness, vice, and intemperance had done their
miserable work, and the dead mother lay cold and still amid her wretched
children. She had fallen upon the threshold of her own door in a drunken fit,
and died in the presence of her frightened little ones.
This woman had been despised, scoffed at, and angrily
denounced by nearly every man, woman, and child in the village; but now, as the fact of her death was passed from lip to
lip, in subdued tones, pity took the place of anger, and sorrow of
denunciation. Neighbors went hastily to the old tumble-down hut, in which she
had secured little more than a place of shelter from summer heats and winter
cold: some with grave-clothes for a decent interment of the body; and some with
food for the half-starving children, three in number. Of these, John, the
oldest, a boy of twelve, was a stout lad, able to earn his living with any
farmer. Kate, between ten and eleven, was bright, active girl, out of whom
something clever might be made, if in good hands; but poor little Maggie,
the youngest, was hopelessly diseased. Two years before a fall from a
window had injured her spine, and she had not been able to leave her bed since,
except when lifted in the arms of her mother.
--
SCENE I
----
The chief is entering the room.
The chief :
What is to be done with the children?
Farmer
Jones : After considering the matter, and talking it over with my
wife, I think I would take John, and do the boy well, now that his mother was
out of the way.
Mrs.
Ellis : I could do much better, I know. But as no one seems
inclined to take her, I must act from a sense of duty expect to have trouble
with the child; for she's an undisciplined thing--used to having her own way.
The chief :
Then what about the youngest one?
All :
(Pitying glances were cast on Maggie)
Villager
1 : Just take her to the poorhouse. Nobody's going to be
bothered with her.
Villager 2 :
The poorhouse is a sad place for a sick and helpless child.
Villager
2 : For your child or mine, but for tis brat it will prove a
blessed change, she will be kept clean, have healthy food, and be doctored,
which is more than can be said of her past condition.
The chief :
Well, it’s all settled, then.
--
SCENE II
----
There was reason in that,
but still it didn't satisfy. The day following the day of death was made the
day of burial. A few neighbors were at the miserable hovel, but none followed
dead cart as it bore the un-honored remains to its pauper grave.
Farmer
Jones : Come on, John (placed John in his wagon). We have a lot to
do. (drove away).
Mrs. Ellis : (to Kate with a
hurried air) Bid your sister good bye.
Kate : Bye, my dear sister (sobbing).
I hope you’ll found your own home (walks
away, following Mrs. Ellis).
Hastily others went out,
some glancing at Maggie, and some resolutely refraining from a look until all
had gone. She was alone. Just beyond the threshold Joe Thompson, the
wheelwright, paused, and said to the blacksmith's wife, who was hastening off
with the rest.
Mr. Thompson : It's a cruel thing to leave her so.
The blacksmith's wife : Then take her to
the poorhouse; she’ll have to go there. (leaving Joe behind.)
Mr. Thompson : (stood for a
little while then turned back and went into his hovel)
Maggie : (with painful
effort, raised herself from the bed) O, Mr. Thompson! (cried out,
catching her breath) don't leave me here all alone!
Mr.
Thompson : No, dear. (going to the bed and stooping down over the
child). You shouldn’t be left here alone.
Mr. Thompson :
(wrapped the child the clean bedclothes, lifted
and bore her out into the air and went home)
--
SCENE III
----
Now, Joe Thompson's wife,
who happened to be childless, was not a woman of saintly temper or much given
to self-denial for others' good, and Joe had well-grounded doubts touching the
manner of greeting he should receive on his arrival. Mrs. Thompson saw him
approaching from the window, and with ruffling feathers met him a few paces
from the door.
Mr.
Thompson : (opened the
garden gate, and came in. His arms held the sick child to his breast)
Mrs. Thompson : (glaring,
questioning his husband) What have you there?
Mr.
Thompson : (looking at the child) Wait a moment for
explanations, and be gentle. (carried Maggie to the small chamber on the
first floor, and laid the girl on a bed)
Mr.
Thompson : (stepped back, shut the door, and stood face to face
with his wife in the passage-way outside).
Mrs.
Thompson : You haven't brought home that sick brat! (snapped Mr.
Thompson)
Mr. Thompson : (firmly) I think women's hearts are sometimes very hard.
Mrs.
Thompson : (Surprised, but keep angry) Women's hearts are not
half so hard as men's!
Mr.
Thompson : (answered quickly) Be that as it may, every woman at the
funeral turned her eyes steadily from the sick child's face, and when the cart
went off with her dead mother, hurried away, and left her alone in that old
hut, with the sun not an hour in the sky.
Mrs. Thompson : Well, where were John and Kate—the other children?
Mr. Thompson : Farmer Jones tossed John into his wagon, and drove
off. Katie went home with Mrs. Ellis; but nobody wanted the poor sick one.
'Send her to the poorhouse,' was the cry.
Mrs.
Thompson : Why didn't you let her go, then? What did you bring her
here for?
Mr.
Thompson : She can't walk to the poorhouse alone. Somebody’s arms
must carry her, and mine are strong enough for that task.
Mrs. Thompson : Then why didn't you keep on! Why did you stop here?
Mr. Thompson : It’s because I'm not apt to go on fools' errands.
The Guardians must first be seen, and a permit obtained.
Mrs. Thompson : When will you see the Guardians? (impatience)
Mr. Thompson : Tomorrow.
Mrs.
Thompson : Why put it off till tomorrow? Go at once for the permit,
and get the whole thing off of your hands tonight!
Mr.
Thompson : Jane (firmly), I
read in the Bible sometimes, and find much said about little children. How the
Savior rebuked the disciples who would not receive them; how he took them up in
his arms, and blessed them; and how he said that 'whosoever gave them even a
cup of cold water should not go unrewarded.' Now, it is a small thing for us to
keep this poor motherless little one for a single night; to be kind to her for
a single night; to make her life comfortable for a single night.
Mrs.
Thompson : (did not answer)
Mr.
Thompson : Look at her kindly, Jane; speak to her kindly (softly). Think of her dead mother, and
the loneliness, the pain, the sorrow that must be on all her coming life.
Mrs.
Thompson : (did not reply, but
turned towards the little chamber the sick-child in)
Mr.
Thompson : Alright then, do as your heart wish. I will go to workshop.
(went out to his shop).
Mrs. Thompson :
(nodded slowly, paused, then approached
the chamber and went quietly in)
--
SCENE IV
----
Mr. Thompson went to his
shop and worked until evening. A light is shining towards the little chamber
windows from the house. He followed the path and stopped outside.
Mr.
Thompson : (peeking by the windows)
Maggie : (lay a
little raised on the pillow with the lamp shining full upon her face).
Mrs. Thompson : (was
sitting by the bed, talking to the child; but her back was towards the window)
Mr. Thompson : Oh I wish
I could know what they are talking about! (muttered) I could
see that child’s expression was sad and tender! But I could see nothing of
bitterness or pain from that her face (deep
breath). Isn’t that a relief? It is like as the weight lifted itself from my
heart. (smiles)
Mr.
Thompson : (enter the house with heavy tread to the kitchen)
Mrs. Thompson : (heard his
husband’s footstep, hurriedly come out from the room where she had
been with Maggie)
Mr. Thompson : How soon will supper be ready? (sat on one of the chair)
Mrs. Thompson : Right soon. (beginning
to bustle about)
Mr.
Thompson : Alright then, I'll wait. (went to wash his
hands and face the dust and soil of work, left the kitchen then went to the
little bedroom.)
Maggie :
(looked up at him from the bed)
Mr.
Thompson : (examining the child
carefully under the lamp light) Your
name is Maggie? (sat down and took her
soft little hand in his)
Maggie : Yes, sir. (quivered)
Mr. Thompson : Have you been sick long?
Maggie :
Yes, sir. (quitely)
Mr. Thompson : Has the doctor been to see you?
Maggie :
He used to come.
Mr. Thompson : (Arise his eyebrow)
But not lately?
Maggie :
No, sir.
Mr. Thompson : Have you any pain? (Concerned)
Maggie :
Sometimes, but not now.
Mr. Thompson : When had you pain?
Maggie : This morning my side ached, (pause for a while) and my back hurt when you carried me. (faintly)
Mr. Thompson : It hurts you to be lifted or moved about?
Maggie :
Yes, sir.
Mr. Thompson : Does your side ache now? (worried)
Maggie :
No, sir.
Mr. Thompson : (relieved, but still
concerned) does it ache a great deal?
Maggie : Yes, sir; but it hasn't ached any since I've been on this
soft bed. (smile faintly)
Mr. Thompson : (smiles softly and
pets the child) the soft bed feels good, right.
Maggie :
O, yes, sir--so good! (smiles happily)
A little while afterwards,
Mrs. Thompson was looking into the room for his husband and the child.
Mrs. Thompson : Supper is ready. (look
at his husband)
Mr. Thompson : (glanced from his
wife's face, then to Maggie’s)
Mrs.
Thompson : She can wait until we are done (said in a low tone, and then pause for a moment) then I will bring
her somethings to eat. (exit the rooms)
Mr.
Thompson : (Sighing) Okay
then. Will you wait us for a while? My wife will bring you some dinner later.
Maggie : (smiles faintly) it’s alright, sir.
Mr.
Thompson : Thank you, dear. We’ll be right back. (pet the child then raise up from the bed; Exit
the room)
--
SCENE V
----
There was an effort at indifference on the part of Mrs.
Thompson, but her husband had seen her through the window, and understood that
the coldness was assumed. Joe waited, after sitting down to the table, for his
wife to introduce the subject uppermost in both of their thoughts; but she kept
silent on that theme, for many minutes, and he maintained a like reserve.
Mrs. Thompson : (suddenly) What
are you going to do with that child?
Mr.
Thompson : (stop eating, glance
at his wife for a moment) I thought you understood me that she was to go to
the poorhouse. (continue his eating)
Mrs.
Thompson : (behave rather strangely
at her husband and then dropped her eyes)
The subject was not again
referred to during the meal. At its close, Mrs. Thompson toasted a slice of
bread, and softened, it with milk and butter; adding to this a cup of tea, she
took them into Maggie, and held the small waiter, on which she had placed them,
while the hungry child ate with every sign of pleasure.
Mrs. Thompson : Is it good?
Maggie : (paused with the cup in her hand) Thank you, ma’am. They were
all delicious (gratefully)
Mrs.
Thompson : (touches and feels very happy but she hides it) well, good
then. (exit the room happily)
At breakfast-time on the
next morning, Mr. Thompson attempts to open conversation with his wife about
Maggie.
Mr.
Thompson : I think it’s about time to step down and see the Guardians
of the Poor about Maggie.
Mrs. Thompson :
(surprised, stop for a moment then
look at his husband) We can keep her a day or two longer; she is so weak
and helpless.
Mr. Thompson : (tries to tempt his wife) She'll only be so much in your
way.
Mrs.
Thompson : (can’t keep collected anymore) I shouldn’t mind that for a
day or two! She is a poor thing!
Mr.
Thompson : (smiles) Alright then, we’ll keep her for
two days more.
Joe did not see the Guardians of the Poor on that day, on
the next, nor on the day following. In fact, he never saw them at all on
Maggie's account, for in less than a week Mrs. Joe Thompson would as soon leave
thought of taking up her own abode in the almshouse as sending Maggie there.
